


The Void Between

by dragonashes



Series: Stars in the Deep [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Healing, Healthy Relationships, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-12-13 03:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11750955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonashes/pseuds/dragonashes
Summary: What does Grillby's serve on Wednesday night?  What is happening in Asriel Memorial Park?  And who the heck is Terry?Small supplemental world-building scenes for "Stars in the Deep."  Can be read separately, but will spoil plot points.





	1. Brewhaha

Terry didn’t know why the skeleton kept showing up at the coffee shop she worked at.  He didn’t even drink coffee, just stole the syrup packets and the little containers of jelly that they kept on hand for the breakfast crowd.  It was weird.  He insisted that he drank them straight, but the cheeky wink led her to believe he was just trying to get a reaction out of her.

He liked getting reactions from people, she noticed.  Unlike some monsters who tried to fit into human society, the skeleton made no effort to play nice.  It was both amusing and concerning.  Few humans cared one way or the other about monsters, but the guy seemed to be able to smell those who did from across the room and would go out of his way to antagonize them.

At first Terry thought it was brave, a way of standing up to those who didn’t like monsters.  Then he reduced Haley - the head of a local lobbyist group - to tears.  Terry knew her only by reputation, since she was a regular, and didn’t really agree with anything she stood for.  Haley was the kind of person who wasn’t content without a Cause (with a capital “C”), regardless of the long-term effects and consequences.  She had butted heads with the city government over everything from the maintenance of local parks to school curriculum to the holiday displays in town, and tended to get violent when people disagreed with her.

Haley’s latest Cause was something she called “equal monster rights.”  Terry didn’t understand much about the movement, but it appeared to be aimed more at segregation than integration.  At least, that’s what came to mind when Haley talked about “monster-oriented services” that refused to help humans, the “monster integration project” that wanted to build monster-only housing, and the “monster educational initiative” that was trying to force human schools to create classrooms open only to monsters.  Monsters had been living among humans just fine for the past five years; they didn’t want to be pushed back into the fringes of society.  Even their king and queen, some of the nicest people Terry had ever seen on TV, had (gently) condemned such initiatives as divisive.

At first, Terry thought that she and the skeleton agreed that these were all poor ways to integrate a group of people into an existing society.  She said as much to him after Haley stumbled out the door, clutching her frothy double latte like it was the secret to world peace.

The skeleton had laughed.

...He was a bit of a jerk, Terry realized then.  He didn’t agree with Haley - he volunteered that much - but he didn’t care much about the topic either way.  He had simply noticed that she was speaking on behalf of people she didn’t really care about and proposing absurd ideas, and he had effectively shut her down.  He made it clear that he didn’t care much for Terry’s interference, either, so she left him alone to finish whatever he was doing with the syrup.

He kept coming back, though.  It took her some time to realize that he only showed up during her shifts.  She never saw him when she had to swap shifts (she was taking classes at her local college so it wasn’t often), and from her coworkers’ comments he left pretty quickly when she wasn’t on duty.  It was incredibly odd.  He never interacted with her except to order biscuits and bug her for more condiments, or to tell one of his many jokes.  (He really, really liked puns, it seemed.  And knock-knock jokes, but those were harder to set up given the circumstances.)

Terry’s manager had come to dread his arrival.  He rarely bought anything, kept trying to run up a tab, and always seemed to leave a mess.  Sure, maybe kicking out a monster would be bad for business, but when weighed against the ever-increasing cost of condiment packets they might save money in the end.

Personally, Terry didn’t mind him all that much.  He always looked so lost, like he was adrift in the big wide world, that she could never stay mad at him.  Did he miss the Underground?  As awful as it was supposed to be, according to the news, it had been his home.  Did he still have family there?  Did he have  _ anyone _ to care for him?

She didn’t think she’d ever know.

One stormy day towards the end of August, Terry realized that she hadn’t seen the skeleton all day.  She asked around.  He  _ was  _ a regular, and a distinctive one at that, even though no one knew his name.  It turned out that no one had seen him in a few days, and it made her feel uneasy.  The ominous rolling thunder that echoed through the cafe’s windows didn’t help any.

He stumbled in at five minutes to closing, soaked to the bone.  (She blamed him for the fact that her brain automatically registered the pun.)  He looked...terrible, honestly.  His jacket was muddy and streaked with something reddish, and his eye-things looked unfocused.

All Terry’s coworkers turned to her in unison.

Sighing, she logged out of her cash register - it had been a slow day anyways, and she’d just been catching up on homework - and made her way over to the skeleton.  She clasped her hands together to hide their shaking.  Was he drunk or something?  Could a skeleton even get drunk?

He didn’t even seem to notice her.  Now that she was closer, she could see that he was glowing faintly; some kind of neon-blue haze was wafting off the bones of his exposed skull and hands.

She reached out towards him.  “Hey, there, budd-”  Her words were cut off when she found herself stumbling back a few feet against her will, propelled by a force she couldn’t place.  When she looked back at the skeleton, he was looking in her direction - an improvement? - with one hand outstretched.  The hand and his left eye were now glowing blue.  Actually, his eye appeared to be...flashing blue and yellow?  Interesting.

She tried to take a step closer and realized that she couldn’t move.  Oh, she could flail her arms and legs (which she did, a little, in her panic), but she couldn’t  _ move _ .  It was like something was holding her torso in place.

Terry looked at the skeleton again, noting the position of his hand.  “Um...are you doing...this?”  She gestured to her body.

He didn’t respond.

“Okay.  Okay.  Can you, uh, put me down?”

Nothing.

“I...come in peace?  I’m not trying to hurt you?”  She sighed.  It wasn’t working.  Nothing seemed to get through to this guy.  She was starting to wonder if he was more dangerous than he’d seemed.  “Look.  I’m sorry for startling you.  You just look like you’d been through the ringer.  You’re a regular, and we noticed you hadn’t been in for a couple days.  I just wanted to check and see if you’re okay.  You, uh, don’t look okay?  Is there anyone I can call?”

“papyrus.”

Progress!  “Okay, sure.  Let’s call Papyrus.  Do you have his or her number?”

“where’s papyrus?”

“Gosh, buddy, I don’t know.  I’d really like to know.  Can you help me?”

Slowly, the blue light faded from around the skeleton’s hand.  His eye was still doing its strobe-light thing, and he was still giving off the same weird blue steam, but Terry found that she was capable of locomotion.  The skeleton slowly backed up against the wall next to the door and slid down it.

Her first reaction was to crawl into the nearest booth and hyperventilate, which she did for about thirty seconds.  She glanced over her shoulder at the kitchen once she was feeling less shaky.  One of her coworkers, Matt, had his cellphone in hand and was mimicking making a phone call.  She raised an eyebrow and he traced out an emergency number in the air.  Terry shook her head.  The skeleton hadn’t attacked her - just held her back somehow - and she didn’t want to get the authorities involved if no one was actually in danger.  For all she knew, the skeleton was a victim or something.

Once she had her panic out of her system she crawled over to the skeleton, making sure to keep her hands visible.  “Hey there.  It’s me, Terry.  Y’know, from the coffee shop.  You feeling any better?  You’re not, uh, going to do the weird magic thing?”

The skeleton glanced at her and slowly shook his head.

“Okay!  Gosh, thanks.  That was, uh, different.  Didn’t hurt, really, but wasn’t all that great.”  She could feel her mouth rambling, but she didn’t want to stop talking.  “Say, do you have a phone on you?”

One finger gestured to his side, where a pocket was visible.

“Great!  That’s great.  Do you have anyone we can call?  I mean, you’re always welcome here, of course, but we are closing up and it looks like you need some help.  Do you need some help?”

He shook his head again, but his little eye-things were starting to get hazy and unfocused.  Terry sighed and shifted closer.

“Okay.  Here’s the plan.  I’m going to, um, try to retrieve your cell phone.  Okay?”

No response.  His eyes didn’t track her when she crawled forward again, stopping just within arm’s reach.  Slowly, giving him time to move away if he wanted, she reached towards his pocket.

The pocket, Terry realized, held a lot more than it seemed.  She pulled out a veritable pile of ketchup, mustard, and relish packets, jam containers, and syrup pouches.  (So it wasn’t just  _ her  _ condiments he was taking!  The bizarre thing was that some of them were empty.  Did he  _ really _ just eat them plain??)  She finally unearthed something hard, surrounded by yet more condiment containers.  Slowly pulling it out revealed a battered, but functional, cell phone.

It looked like a standard human flip phone.  Terry hadn’t seen one in years, not since she convinced her mother to upgrade to a smartphone, so it took her a few minutes to find a contact list.  It was huge and not very descriptive - there were names like “The Kid” and “Lesser Dog” and “Monster Kid’s Dad” - and Terry thought she’d have to pick a name at random when she saw an entry for “Paps.”

She paused.  Either this was the skeleton’s father or the person he’d called “Papyrus,” and either one sounded like a good option.

She fumbled with the buttons until she heard a ring.

“SANS!”

She held the phone away from her ear.  The skeleton - Sans? - had flinched at the sound, loud enough to hear despite the phone’s tiny speaker.  When the yelling stopped, she put the phone back to her ear.  “Um...hi.  Is this, uh, Papyrus?”

“YES!  This is the GREAT PAPYRUS!” came the response.  “Um, either you are Sans and you sound very female all of a sudden, OR you are someone who has borrowed my brother’s phone to call me!  I am sorry, but I do not remember your voice?”

“Oh, this is Terry over at Brew-Ha-Ha Coffee Shop and Cafe.  I have, uh, Sans?  He’s here on my floor.  I think he was asking for you earlier, but he’s not really talking anymore.  I’m not sure what’s…”  She didn’t want to say ‘what’s wrong with him,’ but that was the phrase that came to mind.  “Does he have medication or anything like that?  He’s not very responsive.”

“OH!  Is he sleeping?”

“Um...no?”

“Hmm.  Can you hold the phone up to his ear?”

Terry looked at the side of the skeleton’s smooth skull.  “Uh...this Sans doesn’t have an ear?  Are we talking about the same guy?”

“YES!  I AM SORRY, I FORGOT!  Never mind; just hold the phone up to the side of his skull.”

She did so, wincing a little; she could clearly hear Papyrus yelling, and - ears or no - that probably wasn’t pleasant.

“SANS!  ARE YOU TROUBLING THE HUMANS?”

No response.

“COME ON, I KNOW YOU ARE THERE!  I CAN HEAR YOU BREATHING!”

Terry was surprised at this; she realized, once she looked for it, that she could see the skeleton’s ribcage rising and falling in a steady, shallow rhythm.  She hadn’t realized skeletons needed to breathe.

“SANS!  YOU LAZYBONES!  WAKE UP!”

Sans  _ blinked  _ once.  Somehow.  “...bro?”

“YES!  IT IS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!  I AM ON MY WAY NOW IN MY VERY COOL CAR WITH AN UMBRELLA AND YOUR FAVORITE BLANKET!  ARE YOU OKAY?”

“...dunno?”

“I DID NOT HEAR YOU, BROTHER!”

“i...i…”  Sans looked around, finally noticing Terry holding the phone up to the side of his head.  One hand reached up and took the phone from her, and she sat back on her heels.  “i...think so?”

“EXCELLENT!  I NEED YOU TO DO SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT FOR ME.  A SECRET MISSION, IF YOU WILL.”

“...okay.”

“I NEED YOU TO TELL ME THE NAME OF…” there was a dramatic pause, “...THE STORE YOU ARE IN!”

Sans looked around, glancing at Terry in confusion.  “uh...i’m just in the coffee shop, bro.  the one right down the road from the school?”

“YES!  BUT WHAT IS THE NAME OF THE STORE?”

“...you know i don’t remember that.”

Terry reached up onto a nearby table and grabbed one of the paper placemats.  ‘BREW-HA-HA COFFEE SHOP AND CAFE’ was written across the top in big red letters.  She offered it to Sans who stared at it for a moment, motionless.  Since he made no move to take it she held it up instead, and Sans read off the words, slowly.  His eye-things kept slipping away, like it was too hard for him to focus on any one thing for more than a few seconds.

“EXCELLENT!”  Said the voice on the phone.  “I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!  NOW TELL ME WHAT YOU NORMALLY ORDER THERE!”

“...uh…”

Terry realized that this was an exercise in concentration, not a test of knowledge, and relaxed a little.  With each question Papyrus asked, Sans was looking more and more coherent.  He kept glancing around the room, avoiding Terry, but his movements and his words had more deliberation behind them.

She was so focused on monitoring Sans’s progress that she barely managed to dive out of the way of the opening door.  A tall figure entered in a wave of wind and rain, water draining off his raincoat and umbrella in sheets.  He stared at the resulting puddle, aghast, before approaching Sans in one long step and crouching down.

“SANS, I AM HERE!”  Said the tall man - tall skeleton, Terry realized when he folded up the umbrella.  His skull appeared longer and more expressive than Sans’s, but it was clearly a skull all the same.

Sans focused on Papyrus.  “hey, bro,” he said.

“YOU CAN HANG UP NOW, SANS.  I AM STANDING RIGHT HERE.”

“you hang up.”

“NONSENSE!  YOU CALLED ME!”

“actually, the human gal called you.”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!”

“but what if i…”  Sans trailed off, like he wasn’t sure what to say, but hung up anyways.

Papyrus turned to Terry, his browbone somehow wrinkled with worry.  “Human…” tiny lights in his eye sockets flicked down towards her nametag, then back to her face, “...Terry, has my brother made any puns recently?”

“Um...not since he got here, no.”

Papyrus nodded, gravely, as if this was a symptom of some terrible disease.  “This is more serious than I thought.  Thank you for watching him while I drove here.  I shall take him home now.”

“Do you need some help?”  Terry asked.  Before she could finish the question, Papyrus had pocketed both phones and swept his brother up in one arm.  “...Never mind, looks like you’ve got it handled.”

Sans’s back shook a little, and Papyrus huffed.  “NO PUNS FROM YOU, HUMAN TERRY!”

“O-oh.  Sorry.  Wasn’t intentional.”

Papyrus shifted his umbrella into the crook of one arm and reached out to pat her on the head with one giant, mittened hand.  “You are forgiven!  After all, you did help my brother out a lot today!  That was a very GREAT thing you did!”

Sans, she noticed, had fallen asleep.  Considering that he had been held for less than a minute, she was impressed.  “No problem, Papyrus!  I’m glad he has someone to look out for him.   Will you be okay driving home?  It looks pretty bad out there.”

“WE SHALL BE FINE!  THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS A FIVE-STAR DRIVER!  I EVEN REMEMBERED TO PUT THE CONVERTIBLE TOP UP TODAY!”

She would have been more worried by this declaration if the skeleton wasn’t cuddling his brother with obvious affection.  They were grown men (or the monster equivalent, probably; she wasn’t quite sure) and she could only hope they knew what they were doing.

“Okay, Papyrus.  Well, have a safe drive home.”

“WE WILL!  THANK YOU, COFFEE SHOP HUMANS!”

And with that, he swept back out the door into the thunderstorm.

Sans was nowhere to be found for two and a half weeks following this incident.  Terry didn’t miss him, per se - he hadn’t been exceptionally great company, and tended to cause more than his fair share of problems - but she was definitely worried about him.  He had been a regular up until that point and having him go suddenly missing was...disturbing.

She was beginning to think that Sans had found a different shop to frequent (to her manager’s endless relief) when she saw Papyrus on her way from school to work.  She wrestled with calling out to him - they had only met the once, and under alarming circumstances at that - but her concern got the better of her.

“Hello, human?”  Papyrus replied, looking confused.  Terry didn’t blame him; she looked different without her uniform.

“Sorry; it’s Terry.  Terry from the coffee shop.  You stopped by a few weeks ago during the big storm to pick up Sans, and we spoke briefly then.”

“AH!  HUMAN TERRY!  You are lacking your informational name sign today!  How are you?”

“I’m doing...pretty okay.  Listen, I don’t want to keep you, but I was kinda worried about Sans.  I haven’t seen him since then.”

“Oh!  It’s no problem!  I’m always happy to talk!  My brother is doing much better.  He has bad days sometimes, and could not find me on that particular day.  He has started walking our friend home from school and helping her with homework in the evenings.  I will let him know about your concern and ask him to stop by!”

“No, no, that’s fine!  I just wanted to make sure he was okay.  If he’s doing his own thing I don’t want to bug him.  But, like, could you tell him that I’m glad he’s better?”

“I WILL DO SO, HUMAN TERRY!”  Papyrus swept her into a sudden crushing hug.  “I AM SO GLAD MY BROTHER IS MAKING FRIENDS!”

Then he was gone, surprisingly quickly for a skeleton of his height.  Terry stared at the sidewalk for a moment.  She felt a little shell-shocked after that encounter.

She hoped her manager wasn’t  _ too _ mad that the troublemaking skeleton might be returning...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it! If you came here from "Stars in the Deep," I hope you enjoyed. I've read so many stories where Sans threatens someone who then falls into his arms in some kind of weird Stockholm Syndrome-type relationship, and it annoys me. This is how Sans and Terry know each other, and their relationship isn't quite like that.
> 
> It was important to me that Terry be a 'real' character, even though we don't see much of her in Stars. A Sans who would fall for a shallow, vapid individual is not a Sans who I wanted in my story, after all. He values intelligence. (And also tiny condiment packets. He does sometimes drink them straight, but he also keeps them on-hand to add to random food.)
> 
> If you didn't catch it, the first part of the story takes place between chapters 2 and 3 of Stars in the Deep. Terry and Papyrus have their conversation sometime during Chapter 3-ish. Obviously, when Sans returns to the coffee shop he acts a little nicer towards her.
> 
> And yes, the name of the coffee shop is a pun. "Brouhaha" means "a state of social agitation when a minor incident gets out of control, sometimes referred to as an uproar or hubbub." It's pronounced exactly like "brew"-haha.


	2. Playtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'know, wasn't someone missing from this story? Did everyone...forget about him?

Flowey grinned as he wriggled his way through the earth, his mouth a rictus of unholy glee.  The world was so  _ big _ but he was finally - finally! - back.

He thought he’d done it all during his countless RESETs in the Underground, but he’d never managed to break the barrier.  He’d never gotten a chance to explore outside.  And now?  A flower could get  _ lost _ in a world like this.

Alright, to be fair, he kinda had.  It was BIG, okay??  He was used to navigating around a sphere the size of a city broken up into distinct caverns.  This...openness was a little unnerving.

He’d never intended to come back when he left, however long ago.  Watering flowers got really boring after a while, especially when one  _ was a flower _ and therefore lacking things like, oh, say,  _ hands. _  Watering cans were hard to carry!  He was a tiny little flower!!  It was boring going back and forth, back and forth, struggling and spilling and generally making a mess of things, and he’d had enough of it to last a million lifetimes.

Especially when he’d tasted godlike power.

So he went on vacation.  He’d earned it, after all.   _ He _ was the one who’d broken the barrier, not  _ Frisk; _ why  _ shouldn’t _ he enjoy it?

And he did, at first.  There was so much to see and do and taste and smell: a dizzying conglomeration of new colors and new languages and new technology and...and well, it was hard to remember that he only had one shot at all of this.  He couldn’t RESET anymore; if he poked and prodded and manipulated, people would  _ remember. _  Forever.  It was terrifying.

So...eventually, he came home.

Not because anyone had asked him to, or because he had any connection to the place!  He was just...missing the old place.  No, that wasn’t right.  It was like he’d left a part of himself there.  Maybe.  (It didn’t make sense to him, either.)

The point was, despite all the possibilities and potential this huge world had offered him, he was going back to Mount Ebott.   _ Frisk had better appreciate this. _

It took him a few days to get his bearings once he’d arrived.  Things had changed more than he’d expected.  How long had he been away?  Years, probably, though it was hard to tell.  And no, he definitely  _ didn’t _ panic the first time that thought struck him and he remembered how short human lifetimes were compared to boss monsters.

He didn’t!!

Thankfully for his  _ definitely-not-panic, _ it quickly became apparent that Frisk was still around.  There seemed to be some confusion around whether or not she was still in school - some said she’d graduated; others said she was taking classes at night - but she was alive.  Better, she was working full-time as the Ambassador of Monsters, which put her at one very specific location: the embassy.  And there was really only one place close to the embassy where he could blend in.

Flowey had visited the park named after him once, shortly after he first left the Underground.  It was laughable: someone - probably his...probably  _ Asgore _ \- had planted a bunch of yellow flowers around a statue in the middle of the park.  It was a silly thing that looked nothing like the old Asriel, not really; it was too tall, too mature-looking.  Was that how Asgore and  _ her _ had seen their son?  It was inaccurate, but if he’d been capable of it he probably would’ve been flattered.  He wasn’t, though, so all he’d seen were the inconsistencies between what was in front of him and what his memories told him he’d looked like, and he’d  _ wondered. _

Popping up there was easy...and disorienting.  The yellow flowers he remembered were all common surface flowers: close in color, but looking nothing like the special flowers he and Chara had brought to the Underground.  It was a complete shock, then, when Flowey looked around to see a carefully tended patch of very familiar golden flowers clustered around the base of his statue.

What.  The.   _ Frick?? _

Someone had a lot of explaining to do!!

And he knew where to start.

Finding Frisk’s office was nearly impossible - the embassy was too well-guarded, and didn’t have nearly enough dirt - but the park was only a short walk away.  Last he remembered it had been one of Frisk’s favorite places to eat her lunch, being across the street from the high school she’d attended and within easy walking distance of both the embassy and the school where his...where  _ she _ worked.  In fact, Frisk usually ate at a particular bench…

The bench was empty, but that was to be expected; it was early morning.  But if there was one thing Flowey was good at, it was  _ waiting. _

He retreated into the middle of the flower patch and settled in.

It was, by his estimation, a little past noon (and therefore, right on time) when he was roused by familiar voices.  He stayed quiet, listening in.

“-go out to eat!”

“My child, this is Sans we are speaking of.  If you ask him, I am sure there is very little he will not do.”

“Yeah, but...he’s been working so hard lately.  Yeah, I know, that’s rich coming from me, but I don’t want him to burn himself out.  It wasn’t all that long ago that he was...well...you know.”

_ Hmm… _

“My child, your love is showing!”

_ “Moooom!” _

“In all seriousness, I advise you to trust him.  He knows what is best for himself.  He has been careful since the...incident.  If he believes he can push himself, well, let him!  He is much improved, after all.  Of course, that is not to say that a little  _ worrying  _ will not go unappreciated…”

“Why do you say ‘worrying’ like it means something dirty??”

Flowey had been wondering the same thing.  He didn’t feel love for  _ her _ anymore, but it was uncomfortable to watch  _ her  _ encouraging...such things.  (He was still a kid, okay??  Kinda??  Maybe??)

_ She  _ sputtered.  “That is...that is not what I meant at all!  I merely was trying to  _ imply _ that you should  _ ask him out on the date you were planning. _  Goodness, my child.”

Frisk sighed, looking a bit relieved.  Was she really so naive?  “Well...um, good.  Because that’s what I was planning to do anyways.”

“Excellent.”

Then the conversation turned to something boring about scheduling.   _ She _ had to head back early to check on a class, leaving Frisk to finish up her meal alone.  Still, that was an...informative conversation.  Frisk had a crush, hmm?  He could  _ do things _ with information like that.

Eventually, she packed up her lunch bag and wandered over to the statue.  Flowey stood as still as he could, trying to blend in.  He could sense Frisk’s shadow moving.  What was she doing to his statue?  Was she...touching it??  Why?  What a weirdo!

After what seemed like  _ forever _ she sighed and moved back a step.  Relief was one of the few things he could feel - being more of a release from stress than anything - and it flooded through him.

“Hey, Flowey,” Frisk said.

His eyes snapped open before he could catch himself.  It didn’t matter; apparently the jig was up, because she was looking  _ right at him _ anyways.

“What?  How did you know I was here??”

“Um...you  _ do _ remember that you have a face, right?”

“B-but…!!”

“You might be around other golden flowers, but I come here every day.  I helped plant all these flowers.  I know when something looks out of place.”

“Poopy face,” Flowey grumbled under his breath.  Not his best insult, but she wasn’t supposed to hear it anyways.

“So what brings you here?  I haven’t seen you the last few times I was in the Underground; I’m sorry I missed you.  You’re not exactly an easy person to track down.”

“You...you’ve been back to the Underground?”

“Yeah!  I go at least once a year on the anniversary of Surface Day.  Sometimes I give a quick tour to the different diplomats and dignitaries who visit us, but I think word’s gotten around by now that it’s pretty much just an old cave.”

“You give  _ tours?? _  Why would you go back at all?”

“It’s important for us to remember.  You know - probably better than I do - how life was down there.  Things here on the surface have their problems, but being up here is an enormous improvement.  Going back, seeing the old place, helps me remember what we’re fighting for.”

He looked her over.  “You’re really not gonna RESET, then.  You’re really gonna let us all live out our lives up here.”

“Yes.  There’s nothing I can think of that would make me RESET.”

_ “Excellent.” _  This was going to be so much fun!!  “Then you won’t mind playing with me for a bit!”

“I’d love to, but I’ve gotta get back to work-”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.  Tell me, Frisk, was that a SAVE I felt a moment ago?  Feeling a little DETERMINED standing next to this weirdly inaccurate statue of a dead kid?”

“Flowey-”

“DON’T PLAY DUMB WITH ME!!”

He lashed out with one of his pellets, missing Frisk by a hair.  He could feel eyes on them; the park was a public place, after all.  “Tell ya what,  _ partner. _  You can walk away right now, unharmed.”  He paused, waiting.

“Thanks-”

“BUT.  If you do, I’ll tell Sans your deep, dark secret.”

“What?  What secret?”

“Oh,  _ you know.” _

“Flowey, what do you think you know?”

“Use your imagination,  _ pal. _  How do you think he’ll react when he knows?”

There was confusion on her face instead of the horror that he’d expected, and that was...well, not  _ bad, _ but less satisfying.

“Go ahead, if you’re not worried.  Walk away.   _ See what happens.” _

And to his shock, she did.

Well, then.  Let the games begin.

It took him three days to catch the smiley trashbag at the park while Frisk was there.  The two had gotten weirdly close, and he doubted his plan for a minute, but he steeled his DETERMINATION.  This was going to be fun!

...Right?

Well.  Too late to back out now.

“Howdy!”  he chirped, popping up out of range of the skeleton’s untied sneakers...just in case.  “I see you’re back, Frisk!  Golly, what a mistake  _ that _ was!”

“huh,” was all the trashbag said.  He and Frisk were eating hot dogs -  _ real _ hot dogs, if the smell was anything to go by - and didn’t look nearly as concerned as they should have been.

Had they forgotten about him already??

Well.  He’d show them!

“I warned you-”

“frisk, is this guy botherin’ you?”

“Not really,” Frisk said.

“kay.  go ahead then,  _ bud _ dy.”

It took a moment for Flowey to get back on track, and when he did, he was trembling in rage.  How...odd.  It had been a long time since he’d been so overwhelmed with such a strong emotion.

It felt…

...exciting!!

“Sans, did you know that…”

He paused for dramatic effect.

“did i know what?”

_ Breathe.  Don’t kill the idiot...yet. _  “THAT.  Frisk!  Has a crush on you.”

The skeleton swallowed his hot dog in one big gulp, then gasped dramatically.  Perhaps...too dramatically??

“what?  frisk?  is it true?”

“Alas,” Frisk intoned solemnly, a hand over her heart.  “My great secret has been revealed.  Whatever am I going to do?”

“guess we can’t be friends anymore.”

“Probably not.  It would be too awkward.”

“and no more date nights at grillby’s.”

“A dire circumstance, to be sure, but I will have to find some way to carry on.”

“and no more free hot dogs.”

“Well, that’s just going too far.”

“okay, the free hot dogs can stay.  but i expect smooches in return.”

“Even though we can’t be friends anymore?”

“hmm...that does make things awkward, doesn’t it?  you gonna go around smooching strangers for food?”

“I guess that’s what my life has come to, hasn’t it.”

“i guess so.  hey, is that a hot dog you’re eating?”

“Why, yes.  Yes it is.”

“i don’t think you’ve paid for that, pal.”

“That’s going to be a problem then.”  She leaned in WAY TOO CLOSE to the trashbag before glancing at her audience out of the corner of her eye.  “What do you think, Flowey?”

Flowey had arrived at the conclusion that he was being thoroughly mocked.  He didn’t like the feeling.  “JUST...FINE!  WHATEVER!  BE THAT WAY!!”

He popped back underground, willing the dirt to muffle the sounds of the pair of idiots  _ giggling. _

Ugh.  They were sickeningly cute together, too.  By objective standards, of course.

It was  _ disgusting. _

And he got the feeling that there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

Unless…

...Nah.  Not a thing.

_ Poop. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I'm sorry for going MIA for a couple weeks there. I've thought for days now about how to say this - especially since this has no impact on any of your lives - but I don't have any clever witticisms or loquacious turns of phrase for this.
> 
> My dad has cancer. It hasn't spread (we think) and should be relatively easy to handle (we hope), but we'll know more soon. I'm sorry; I took the news rather hard, which is the only excuse I can offer for my lack of any communication whatsoever. Please know that I haven't abandoned the site, the Undertale fandom, or this story; I just needed some time. Any prayers, kind thoughts, or good wishes are much appreciated.
> 
> On a lighter note: Yes, this takes place after the end of Stars in the Deep! Flowey has been traveling, which is why he wasn't in that particular story. Please bask in shameless fluff and Flowey being Flowey, even if it doesn't have the effect he wants. At least he knows better than to try to fight Frisk and Sans together. Poor kid.
> 
> Fun fact of the chapter: Flowey just really enjoys antagonizing Frisk and seeing how far he can push her. I don't know what he'd do if she actually did RESET. (Sans, incidentally, enjoys doing the same to Flowey, but it's more a vengeance thing. Flowey is doing the equivalent of pulling a girl's pigtails in kindergarten because he doesn't know how to tell her he wants to be friends; Sans is poking a tiger to see how long it takes until it turns on him.)
> 
> Also, Frisk and Sans have come to the point in their relationship where they can make light of their earlier struggles. That, I think, is a good place to be.


	3. Rebuttal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road to coexistence between humans and monsters had a few speed bumps. Frisk is very good at smoothing them.

Frisk stared at the woman in front of her.  “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“I asked why you’re so concerned with monsters?  You’re human.  They’re not.  It’s just...weird, right?  There are so many human problems.  Why not look after your own?”

She cleared her throat.  “I could, yes, and I support people who do, but I believe this is where I’m needed.  These are my friends, and like anyone else, I want to help them.”

“But they’re  _ monsters. _  They even call themselves monsters.  You...you know what they’ve done.  How can you support that?  How can you call yourself their friend?”

“What do you mean?  Why shouldn’t I?”

“That... _ Asgore _ admitted what he did to all those children who fell.  He killed them just because they were human.  How can you support him when he did something like that?  And what about all the monsters who were excited about the destruction of humanity?  Even after they were living in our cities being helped by our charities, there were still monsters talking about how much they wanted all humans dead.  How can you call them your friends?”

Frisk took a deep breath.  “First, thank you.”

“What?”  The woman’s eyes went wide.

“It’s rare that someone has the courage to be honest.  Most people tiptoe around the issues, putting on pretty smiles and saying that they think we want to hear.  Nothing gets resolved that way.  So...thanks for actually asking the questions you wanted to have answered.  What’s your name, by the way?”

“Oh.  Um, Melanie Rogers.”

Frisk recognized that name.  Melanie was a relative of two of the fallen children, and her daughter had been injured in a confrontation that broke out when some humans had approached a hostile monster.  It had been a miracle that everyone, human and monster, had walked away from that in one piece.  “Well, Melanie, it’s nice to meet you.  I’m not saying that monsters are perfect.  I never have.  Monsters done some terrible things, both in the Underground and here on the surface.  The problem I have with some people - including the monsters you described - is that they judge others as groups.  Sure, it’s natural for us to group people together; certain groups have similar characteristics, and neither humans nor monsters are capable of uniquely identifying every single person we come across.  When we pass judgement on a group because of the actions of a few, though, it becomes a problem.

“Many monsters have judged humans for centuries because of the actions of a few humans around Mt. Ebott who drove them under the mountain and erected the barrier.  All those people are long dead.  So yes, it was morally despicable that Asgore decided to kill the human children who fell based on old grudges those children had nothing to do with.  It was a bad decision, made in anger for bad reasons, and it’s something he regrets.

“Humans who judge monsters as a whole are going down the same track.  They’re grouping all monsters together under the same banner based on the actions or reactions of a few.  One of the strangest things for me to accept when I first got to know them was how similar humans and monsters really are.  We often react the same way.  Your daughter was injured in the Division Street Incident a few months back, right?”

“Um...yes.”  Melanie was looking very uncomfortable.  “How...did you know?”

Frisk smiled.  “You met with my parents afterwards, when they were apologizing to the families.  I had a Math test that day or I would have been there as well.  I recognized your name, though.  You made quite an impression on my mother.  She can be very protective as well, and she recognized that your primary concern was for your daughter’s safety.  She respects you for your dedication.

“The monster who smashed into that building was a mother too, actually, and she thought someone was trying to hurt her son.  It was a misunderstanding, and it doesn’t excuse her actions, but she was trying to do the best for her child, just like any good mother would.”

“She was trying to  _ protect _ her child?  She nearly brought a building down with over a hundred people inside!  That wasn’t protecting anyone!”

“No,”  Frisk said, wincing, “It wasn’t.  Her intentions certainly didn’t match up with her actions.  She recognized that, and she apologized.  When she realized what she’d done, she helped rescue people trying to escape the building.  She even volunteered to help clean up the area, and she did such a good job that she works part-time at the donut shop next door now.  She made a mistake and worked to fix it.  Does that sound like your idea of a ‘monster?’”

A sigh.  “No, but...she still lost control.  She could easily lose control again.  On top of that, it’s hard to forgive someone who’s hurt your family.”

“I know.  Believe me, I know.  I get pretty angry sometimes when people hurt my family, and that’s something I need to work on.  For me, though, it’s mostly humans who hurt my monster family.”

“But...they aren’t really your-”

Frisk took a deep, calming breath.  “They are.  I was legally adopted; to say they aren’t my family is an insult not just to me, but to every adopted child in the world.  Sometimes family is the people who care about you, not the people you’re related to.  And they do care about me, Melanie.  My mother loves me just as much as any human mother could.  Could she hurt me?  Yeah, of course.  And I could hurt her.”  She willed away the half-remembered dreams that crowded into her mind, trying not to shudder.  “It’s no different from living with, say, a martial arts expert or a military veteran or an experienced hunter.  Having the power to hurt each other doesn’t mean we  _ will. _

“And sure, we don’t always understand each other.  Species differences aside, we come from very different cultures.  It’s hard sometimes, but it would have been equally hard - if not harder! - if I’d been adopted by someone on the other side of the world.  At least we speak the same language and believe in pretty much the same values.”

“But you  _ are _ from different species.  How does that even work?”

“My mother has raised human children before, at least temporarily; she knows the basics.  For everything else?  I  _ do _ see a human doctor and therapist.  My parents insist on that.  They want me to be healthy.  If I have any questions they can’t answer, they find someone who can.”  She chuckled.  “There was an incident last month when I was interested in a particular meme.  I didn’t get it - it was a reference to a movie I hadn’t seen - and my parents had no idea what to make of it either.  I forgot about it, but they didn’t.  A week later I came down to breakfast to find a ten-page report on this...this meme, its evolution, and its derivatives - with examples - written by volunteers from the Royal Science team.”  And Sans, apparently.  Some of the puns were surprisingly topical, showing a far greater understanding of the material than Frisk would’ve expected.

“I...see.  Well, I’m glad they’re treating you well, at least.”

“They are.  Well.  Um.  Do you have any other questions for me?”

Melanie looked her over, face blank.  “Why did you tell me all of this?”

“Well, for one thing, that’s my job.  The monsters call me their ambassador, but it’s unofficial for now.  I do what I can to improve the relationships between humans and monsters where I’m able.”

“You’re very well-spoken for someone so young.”  Ordinarily that would have been almost insulting, but Frisk could hear the wistfulness in her tone.

“Thank you.  I’ve had a lot of practice.”

Melanie nodded.  “Well, Frisk, you’ve given me a lot to think about.  I don’t know if I’m ready to change my mind on monsters just yet, but...I certainly wish you well.  I would be heartbroken if my daughter had gone through some of the things you’ve experienced, but it looks like you can handle yourself.”

“Thank you.  I wish you well, also.”

She smiled.  “I’ll see you around, I suppose,  _ Ambassador _ Dreemurr.”

A few months later, Frisk saw Melanie at a charity dinner for a local orphanage.  She was on her knees in front of a tiny little monster girl with fins like Undyne’s and shockingly green hair.  For one moment, Frisk’s heart stopped - what was Melanie doing? - but a moment later they shifted.  The woman stood, pocketing a wet wipe, and took the little girl’s hand.

“That’s Melanie Rogers,” said an older woman over Frisk’s shoulder.  “She came to us a few weeks ago to volunteer at our orphanage.  She was so nervous around monsters at first, but she kept coming back.  Calypso was what brought her out of her shell, I think.  She’s such a sweet child, and follows Melanie around like a baby duckling!  She’s still nervous around grown monsters, but then, she’s come a long way already.”

“Yes,”  Frisk said, watching the pair as they raided the horderves table, “She really has.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I debated posting this, since this is the internet and I'm sure someone will take offense, but what can ya do. This is how I think Frisk would deal with dissenters. Sure, there are the violent and rowdy types, but I think most people would just have valid questions and concerns. Frisk - who won't even defend herself with violence - must have a lot of patience. Put those together, and you have a Frisk patiently explaining her position to someone who really, really doesn't agree with her.
> 
> This approach wouldn't work with everyone, but it didn't have to. Most folks aren't driven by some overarching ideology and really just want to be heard. Screaming at Melanie wouldn't have solved anything. Frisk was able to read the situation and talk her down, and - slowly but surely - made one more ally for her cause. Just hope and pray Melanie doesn't meet Sans or Papyrus anytime soon, or I think someone's gonna freak out.
> 
> Fun fact of the chapter: Melanie definitely isn't based on anyone I know in real life, and this conversation wasn't based on a real-life encounter. Definitely. Not.


	4. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, a word from a certain skeleton.

Sans came to consciousness gradually.  He was lying on his side, his spine a bit crooked, and the sparks of pain the position produced were probably what had woken him.  He shifted a little until the pressure lifted and sighed in relief.

Something over his head sighed too.

His senses immediately went on full alert.  Where was he?  What had he been doing?  Who was with him?  What-

He took a moment to calm himself.  He wasn’t in any danger.  He’d obviously been in his current position for some time.  Even if any one of the outlandish hypotheses running through his skull was verified, he wasn’t going to dust in the next few minutes.

Slowly he relaxed, stretching out and trying to determine who was with him.

Phalanges hit the familiar plush of the couch.  That was right; he’d been watching a movie with Frisk.  They must’ve fallen asleep.  He reached up to confirm and smiled when his fingers made contact with the familiar warm curve of a cheek.

She didn’t move like she usually did when he poked her.  That was good; she needed her sleep.

Since he couldn’t bug his girlfriend first thing in the morning, he settled for taking stock of his situation.  He was lying back on the couch, the footrest extended so he could lay almost flat.  (He’d forgotten it could do that, since he didn’t have the body weight to push the seat back on his own.)  His skull was lying on Frisk’s shoulder, tucked neatly under her chin.

One of her arms had found its way around him - the source of his earlier discomfort, probably - and was loosely tangled in his hoodie.  That was fair, considering that the hand not resting on Frisk’s cheek was trapped under her torso in a way that couldn’t be comfortable for her.   _ He _ didn’t mind - she wasn’t crushing him, and the warmth was pleasant - but Sans knew he would have to extract his arm soon.

The night before had been fun.  Frisk had acted a little weird when he invited her over for a sleepover, but once she showed up she had really gotten into it.  Sure, she and Paps hadn’t quite made the epic pillow fort they’d been aiming for (all the pillows had gone mysteriously missing...?) but the blanket fort they’d set up was almost as good.  In fact, if the snores were anything to go by, his brother was still asleep in there.

It was peaceful, watching the shadows crawl slowly across the wall as the sun rose, accompanied by the snores of his two favorite people in the world.  He wished he could wake up like that every day.

_ Maybe, _ his mind whispered,  _ someday… _

But that was a while off.  She was still finishing up coursework for her degree, and even though her studies didn’t put a damper on her relationship (quite the opposite) he knew she sometimes felt inadequate when it came to her education.  Sans had quietly gotten his degrees certified and had - to everyone’s surprise - wound up with a PhD in quantum physics and a Master’s in thermodynamics.  He was fairly sure the humans were being generous (some of the “core classes” Frisk took were so far outside his realm of knowledge that it wasn’t even funny) but Paps, Frisk and even Tori had been so proud of him that he just couldn’t argue.

Still, it bothered Frisk a little that she wasn’t at the same level in her own education.  No matter how much he explained that he’d started focused studies very young, that a broader education like hers just took more time, that she was splitting her attention between an incredibly involved job and her family  _ and _ her studies; despite all of that, she still felt the need to prove that she could succeed in that particular area.  Whether she was trying to prove it to herself or to him or to her naysayers he wasn’t sure, but he loved her all the same.

“Hey,” came a groggy voice from over his head.

“hey.”

“Wha’s up?”

He glanced overhead.  “stars.”

“Hmm?”  He felt her shift to get a better look.  Sure enough, the glow-in-the dark stars that Papyrus had tacked onto the ceiling were still up there.  “Huh.”

“someone’s eloquent first thing in the morning.”

“Coffee…”

She was adorable when first waking up.  “i must decline to acquiesce to your request.”

“Arrgh,” Frisk intoned, deadpan.  A moment later, he felt a hand on his ribcage rolling him out of his warm blanket nest.  “Go.”

Sans snickered, but did as he was ordered.  Frisk genuinely wasn’t a morning person, and when she hit her limit she wasn’t any fun.  He started the coffeemaker and hurried back to the couch, looking for more snuggles.

Thankfully, his girlfriend was right where he left her.  He wiggled his legs back under the blanket and made himself comfortable, basking in her warmth.  The sun was almost entirely up, now, throwing bright rays over the top of the blanket fort.

“Coffee?”

“give it a minute.”

She hummed a little.  “Hey, Sans?”

“yeah?”

“Thanks for inviting me over.  Was fun.”

“heh.  thanks for coming over.  paps had lots of fun, i think.  you always know how to cheer the guy up.”

“Careful; you’ll make me think you invited me over just for him.”  She was joking, or trying to, but he could hear the thread of insecurity in her voice.

He rolled over on his side, searching her face, and let the urge to make a joke roll off him.  It had taken some time to figure out when he could make jokes and when to be serious, and he was still learning, but it seemed like this was a time to be serious.

“hey.”

“Hmm?”

“i love you, okay?  you’re really important to me.  just because i thought you ‘n paps would have fun doesn’t make that any less true.  it’s been a while since we’ve properly been able to hang out and...why are you turning colors like that?”

Frisk hid her face in her hands.  After a moment, she peeked at him.  *One moment,* she signed.

He waited, endlessly amused.  Humans reacted so oddly to some of the weirdest things, and Frisk was really no different in that regard.

“Oookay,” she said, finally.  “I.  Um.  Love you too.”

“uh, yeah…?”  He knew that…?  Humans were weird sometimes.

“Good.  As long as we’re clear.”

He hummed.  “oh, coffee’s done.”  He rolled back out of the blanket nest and shuffled into the kitchen.  He filled three mugs - Pap’s “Kiss the Chef” mug, a blue flowered one for Frisk, and the next one he grabbed out of the cupboard for himself - and made his way back into the living room.

As he’d suspected, there was movement in the blanket fort.  Papyrus - roused by the smell of coffee - was making small noises of complaint.

“here,” he said, pushing one mug through the flap in the fort.  “rise and shine, sleepybones.”

“I’m not…”

“heh.  sure you’re not, big guy.  but it’s definitely after sunrise and i think undyne’ll be here soon...”

“WHAT??”

The mug was snatched from his hand.  Sans grinned a little wider and offered another mug to Frisk.

“I  _ love _ you,” was her reply.  No hesitation, that time.

He snuggled in and took a big gulp of his own coffee.  It wasn’t bad, actually.

The blanket fort exploded.  “I’VE GOT TO RUN SEE YOU ALL LATER-”

“you’re still in pyjamas, paps.”

“AAAAAAAAAH!”

He and Frisk watched Papyrus take off down the hallway.

“YOU’RE LATE, PUNK!”  Undyne screamed from somewhere outside.

“COMING!”  Papyrus flew back down the hallway and out the door, clothes thrown haphazardly on.  “HAVE WONDERFUL DAY!  DO NOT EAT ANYTHING THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD NOT EAT!  AND TRY TO GET OFF THE COUCH AT SOME POINT!”

*Do you think he knows he’s still wearing his bunny slippers?*  Frisk signed over the sounds of chaos from outside.

*nope.*

There was a particularly loud scream, followed by raucous laughter.

*Undyne knows, though.*

*undyne always knows.*

The coffee was gone faster than either of them would have liked, and Frisk’s rumbling stomach forced them to go looking for food.  Paps - always prepared for every situation - had made a big batch of homemade breakfast burritos a few days back, so they microwaved those.  Papyrus was just  _ so cool! _

Despite the coffee, Frisk was nodding off by the time they finished breakfast.  That was alright; it was a Saturday, and she was staying over for the stargazing party that night.  A little more sleep wouldn’t hurt her.

“Mmmkay,” she said when he suggested a nap.  “But don’ think it’s gonna...gonna be a regular thing.”

“i know you don’t have anything urgent at the embassy.  relax for a day.”

“Mmmkay.”

She curled up on the couch a little strangely, but she looked comfy.  Actually, looking at the way she was positioned, it looked like there was just enough room for one short skeleton to curl up beside her.

Well.  Who was he to complain?

The sound of her slow, steady breathing lulled him back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OUTTAKE
> 
> Phalanges hit the familiar plush of the couch. That was right; he had been watching a movie with Frisk. They must’ve fallen asleep. He reached up to confirm and smiled when his fingers made contact with the curve of a cheek. It felt a little cooler than he remembered. What was up with-
> 
> “WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO PULL, PUNK??” screamed a familiar voice from under his skull. “GO FEEL UP YOUR GIRLFRIEND, YOU WEIRDO!!”
> 
> Said girlfriend was standing in the living room doorway, one hand over her mouth. It did little to hide the fact that she was snickering.
> 
> Abruptly, Sans found himself tossed recklessly from the couch and launched in Frisk’s direction. She, thankfully, was more awake than he was and actually managed to catch him.
> 
> “hey,” he said to her shoulder. “nice catch.”
> 
> Frisk just sighed, slung him over her shoulder, and headed into the kitchen for breakfast.
> 
> \-------
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you all enjoyed. Hopefully I can work back up to twice-weekly posting now that the personal crises are mostly over. Please keep in mind everyone affected by all these natural disasters, though. We've lost a lot of people to storms around the world these past few weeks.
> 
> I'm about ready to start posting a few unrelated one-shots and my next big story. We'll see how it goes!


	5. Grill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Frisk pay a visit to Grillby's that...doesn't quite go as expected.
> 
> Takes place early in Frisk's senior year, around Chapter 3 of Stars.

“And IIIIIIIIIIIII will alwaaaays love yoooooooouuuuuuu!”

Frisk rolled her eyes at the drunk monster monopolizing the karaoke machine.  *Remind me why we decided to come here?*

“good food,” Sans mumbled around his fries.  Despite having no ears, it looked like the noise had gotten to him as well.

She’d been thrilled to be invited out with Sans for dinner at Grillby’s, but this?  This was  _ awful. _  Sure, Grillby’s new experimental karaoke and finger foods night  _ sounded _ wonderful, but the reality was...not that.  Not at all.

Grillby’s was usually a great place to do homework, for one thing.  As Fall went on her teachers were giving her more and more homework, something about ‘preparing her for college’ or some such nonsense, and the heavy warmth and delicious smells of the bar were comforting.  That, and Grillby usually gave her free fries.  (Or fries on Sans’s tab, one of the two.  She’d asked, once, and been subjected to ketchup packet pranks for the next three days.  Some things were better left unknown.)

Apparently, she was going to have to find somewhere else to study on Wednesday nights.

The desecration of Whitney Houston came to an end shortly after, thankfully, and Frisk could once again hear herself think a little.  *Did you know Drunk Bunny could sing?*

*you call that  _ singing?* _

She snorted into her soda.  *Be nice.*

Sans laughed.

There was some commotion as several patrons tried to drag DB away from the karaoke machine (“Waaaait!  My public neeeeeeds me!”) and some poor human kid was shoved up onto the stage with a demand to “sing something, anything,  _ please.” _

The song selected for him a some new hit that had been overplayed on the radio, and he didn’t know half the words, but he had a good singing voice.

Sans tapped her hand.  *you gonna work on your homework?*

*Too loud.*

*gotcha.  want something to eat?*

*Yes, please.*  Her mom was serving snail pie that night.  She’d gotten used to the taste, kind of, but it wasn’t her favorite.  By a long shot.

*okay.*  And he was gone.  Without asking her what she wanted.

Which meant it was going to be a surprise.

...Which meant Sans was up to something.

And she’d really been looking forward to something edible, too.

She sipped her soda, glancing around the room.  Despite the noise and chaos it looked like karaoke night was a hit.  It had taken a few enthusiastic humans to kick off the evening before the monsters joined in, but the regulars - Drunk Bunny included - had quickly gotten into the spirit of things.

It looked like Grillby’s Ghost Pepper Poppers were quite popular as well, especially among the high school and college crowd.  A group of teenagers in the corner were currently egging on a human and a bunny monster who were racing their way through a plate of them.  Sure,  _ that  _ was going to end well.

“hey.”

Sans was hiding something behind his back.  Of  _ course _ he was.  Frisk felt the tug of a long day on her eyelids, exhaustion overcoming her for just a moment.  She was usually game for Sans’s shenanigans, but she was  _ tired _ and it was  _ loud _ and…

...and she didn’t think she’d ever be able to deny him anything when he grinned at her like that, impossible little crinkles in the corners of his eye sockets.  Like he had too much happiness to be contained in one skeleton.

*Find anything good?*

With a flourish, he presented her with a surprisingly large tray.  Olives, nachos, deviled eggs, small containers with fruit and soup…?

*I don’t get it,* she said reluctantly.

Sans only grinned wider and produced what appeared to be a menu.  At the top were the words:

PUN PLATTER

*it’s a collaboration,* he said, putting both platter and menu down to gesture widely.  *apparently, it’s been a hit.  grillbz is taking requests for some of the individual items; if something’s popular enough, he’ll add it to the main menu.*

*That’s awesome!*

She looked over the menu.  According to her list, the platter contained “Olive You” stuffed olives, “Amaizing” corn chips, “Eggcellent” deviled eggs, “Mint to be” mint chocolate cookies, “Meloncholy” melon bowls, “Souper Grillby” tomato soup with grilled cheese cubes, “Wonton Havoc” spicey fried wontons, and a small bowl of “Chillby’s” specialty chili.  It was, in short, an impressive display of both food and food puns, all on one plate.

*I don’t know how to respond to this,* she signed.

*just try something.*

She took a spoon and the tomato soup.  It was surprisingly good, actually.  She’d had grilled cheese and tomato soup before, and she’d had soup with croutons, but Grillby had tried to combine the two.  The grilled cheese was just on the right side of crunchy still.

*It’s really good!*

*cool.  we weren’t sure how it compared to the human version.*

*Maybe serve the grilled cheese cubes on the side?  This is amazing, but I think the cubes might start to get mushy if it sits too long.*

*but we’re serving it immediately.*

*Yeah, but what if I didn’t want to eat this first?*

*good point.*

It was really funny, actually, seeing Sans so invested in this.  He was the laziest person Frisk knew; and yet, here he was, watching her eat the food he’d helped name with an excitement that reminded her a lot of his brother.

*everything okay?*

*Everything’s great!*

And she meant it.  The food was wonderful, as all Grillby’s food was, and she wouldn’t have traded that moment for the world.  Even the noise seemed to make her head throb a little less.

*same time next week?*

Five minutes ago, she would have politely declined.

*Wouldn’t miss it!*

He was still smiling when they left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! We had a sad Sans in the first one-shot of this collection; here's a much happier Sans from the same timeframe. This is what makes some mental disorders so difficult to diagnose: everyone has good days and bad days, and Sans is very good at faking a smile. He also genuinely enjoys things like puns and science and spending time with his brother and friends. He comes across as a generally happy person with a few bad days, not someone with a laundry list of mental issues and traumas who has learned to function regardless.
> 
> Fun fact of the chapter: I freely admit that I got a lot of help with the food puns in this chapter. [Punpedia.org](http://punpedia.org/) is a wonderful and terrible force: please use with caution.
> 
> I have not tried tomato soup with grilled cheese chunks, but golly it sounds amazing. Once I get a batch of homemade tomato soup going I may do just that. It was something that sprung into my head while writing this, and while I'm sure I'm not the first person to think of this, it was an original idea.
> 
> Thanks again for reading, and stay safe out there!


	6. Sign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk reflects on an unexpected loss. Papyrus reminds her of how far she's come.

Frisk looked down at her hands.  She’d just realized that she hadn’t signed in three or four days, maybe longer.  It was strange to think about.  In high school, the teachers and other students had been very accommodating; by the time she graduated, most teachers knew at least a little sign language.  She’d gotten used to being able to sign to nearly anyone she wanted.

The real world was...different.  She’d known that, intellectually, but  _ experiencing _ it was jarring.  She couldn’t sign to the other diplomats and expect them to understand her.  Half the time she couldn’t even  _ speak _ to the other diplomats and expect them to understand her.  In an arena where wars could be started or subverted through effective communication, she couldn’t waste time with inefficient means.

That didn’t mean she didn’t miss it.

She still signed with her parents, with Sans and Papyrus, and - if she was feeling sad - with Alphys and Undyne.  Grillby signed almost exclusively, since his speech was so difficult for most folks to understand, so she always got to practice with him.  Still, that only accounted for a small portion of the people she interacted with.  Most of the time, she spoke.

She’d gotten better at it over the years.  As a young teenager, she hadn’t spoken at all if she could help it.  She had  _ hated _ her voice, for reasons she really didn’t want to think about.  She’d always thought she sounded like a frog.

“WHAT IS UP, FRISK?”

“Oh.  Hey, Papyrus.”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“Thinking.  Sorry; it’s nothing.”

She was immediately swept into a genuine, if pokey, hug.

“FRISK, IF YOU ARE WORRIED ABOUT SOMETHING, PLEASE DO NOT HIDE IT!  YOU CANNOT GET INTO THE HABIT OF KEEPING LOTS OF SECRETS.  I KNOW YOU CARE ABOUT MY BROTHER VERY MUCH, BUT PICKING UP THIS HABIT FROM HIM WOULD BE THE OPPOSITE OF GOOD!”

“I’m sorry.  It’s just...I was thinking about how I speak more than signing now.”

“I KNOW! ISN’T IT GREAT?”

It made her heart sink, just for a moment.  Papyrus didn’t understand.  Or maybe she was just overreacting?

“I...I guess-”

“OH, I DO NOT MEAN THAT YOU SHOULDN’T SIGN IF YOU ENJOY IT, BUT YOU ARE SO MUCH MORE COMFORTABLE WITH YOUR WORDS NOW!  WHY, I REMEMBER WHEN I FIRST MET YOU, YOU HARDLY SPOKE AT ALL!  AND NOW LOOK AT YOU!  JUST LAST WEEK YOU MADE A BIG SPEECH ON TV!  EVERYONE HEARD YOU!  AND YOU WERE HARDLY NERVOUS AT ALL!”

“W-well, yeah, but I practiced that for  _ weeks-” _

“EXACTLY!  NOT ONLY DID YOU GIVE A BIG SPEECH ONCE, YOU ALSO GAVE THAT SAME SPEECH MANY TIMES BEFORE THAT!  SO OFTEN THAT I ALMOST HAD YOUR SPEECH MEMORIZED WHEN I SAW IT ON TV!”

“Sorry; I didn’t mean to bore you-”

“NONSENSE!  THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NEVER BORED WHEN HE’S WITH FRIENDS!”

His sincerity was blinding.

“BUT DON’T YOU SEE?  YOU’VE GOTTEN MUCH BETTER AT SPEAKING!  NOW NOT ONLY CAN YOU SIGN WITH YOUR FAMILY AND MY BROTHER AND GRILLBY, BUT YOU CAN ALSO SPEAK WITH YOUR NEW DIPLOMAT FRIENDS!  AND YOU’RE LEARNING OTHER LANGUAGES TOO!  SOON YOU’LL BE ABLE TO SPEAK WITH EVERYONE!”

“Well.   _ Almost _ everyone.”

“DO NOT DWELL ON TECHNICALITIES WHEN YOU ARE RECEIVING A GREAT FRIEND PEP TALK FROM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

“You’re right; sorry.  Please, go on.”

“AHEM!  YES!  YOU SHOULD BE PROUD OF YOUR ACCOMPLISHMENTS!  IT IS LIKE EATING A BOWL OF SPAGHETTI.  YOU LIKE MEATBALLS, YES?  BUT HAVING MEATBALLS IN YOUR BOWL MEANS YOU HAVE LESS ROOM FOR NOODLES!  DOES THAT MEAN YOU ARE REJECTING THE NOODLES??  NO!!  IT MERELY MEANS YOU ARE EATING A MORE BALANCED MEAL, WHICH- FRISK, ARE YOU CRYING?”

“No,” Frisk mumbled, wiping her eyes.  She hugged Papyrus again to distract him.

It worked.  “WELL!  I AM GLAD WE HAD THIS CHAT!”

“Me too.”

“AND ALL THESE HUGS!”

“Yep.”

“SO NO MORE MOPING ABOUT WHAT’S IN THE PAST!  YOU MUST DEFEAT YOUR PAST!  WITH SPEARS!  LIKE UNDYNE!”

“I’ll do my best.”

“NYEHEHE!”

Frisk laughed right along with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being AWOL again for a bit there. I should be back now. We'll see what else life throws at me.
> 
> Fun fact of the chapter: Papyrus is the best listener for speech practice, but he's too nice to criticize harshly. Undyne is great at criticism, but gets bored after the first minute or two. They balance each other out.
> 
> That said, happy birthday to me! Prepare for a triple threat update. That will bring us to the end of The Void Between, at least for now.


	7. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finding out that Sans is dating someone else, Frisk takes some time to cope.

Frisk curled up against the wall of her room, staring into nothing.  Sans had been dating his...new girlfriend for a whole  _ month, _ and she was still a mess.  It felt like a small eternity.

She hadn’t seen Sans since the day that first date, when he’d walked her home.

She’d gotten so used to his presence.  He had kind of always been there, hadn’t he?  Even all the way back to the Underground, he’d followed her around.  Like he had nothing better to do.

(Or he was protecting her.  He had helped against Undyne, hadn’t he?)

He wasn’t always helpful…

_ you’d be dead where you stand. _

...but he tried.  Usually.

...Sometimes?

He was still her  _ friend, _ helpful or not.  She’d gotten used to seeing him on a regular basis, to sharing the details of her day with him and hearing his anecdotes about his brother and sometimes - if she was very, very lucky - holding his hand.

That was what she missed most, really.  She didn’t care so much that he was dating someone else.  No, that was a lie; it hurt like a rejection, then hurt worse because she knew it wasn’t justified.  They’d never been together in the first place.

She would have... _ tolerated _ him dating someone else, then, if only he’d still spent some time with her.   _ That _ was what she missed.  What he wanted to call their relationship didn’t matter to her as long as it continued.

But...that wouldn’t be fair to his girlfriend, would it?  Sans needed that extra time to devote to her.  Frisk was an afterthought, now.  How could she compete with real, genuine romantic attraction?

Had Sans  _ ever _ liked her, really?  He was always so friendly towards her...but then again, he’d been friendly in the Underground, too.

_ you’d be dead where you stand. _

It was possible he was just keeping an eye on her.  Maybe someone had made him  _ promise. _  Maybe he’d never actually liked her at all, even as a friend.

Aaand...she was making herself cry.  Again.

No.  She couldn’t believe that!  Sans...he  _ had _ to like her, at least a little, right?  Even if he thought she was a dumb little kid, he had to feel  _ something _ for her.  He wouldn’t have spent so much time with her, otherwise.

...Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, sorry-not-sorry for the angst. I couldn't find a good way to put this into the main story without drawing out the angsty portion way too long and interrupting story flow, so here you go.
> 
> Fun fact of the chapter: Frisk is trying to convince herself that her relationship with Sans was platonic. I'm sure anyone who's had a crush knows how well that works out. It takes time and support and willpower to overcome something like that, and even then the emotions involved can be quite strong. There's a reason why many people claim they can't help themselves when it comes to things like this: it's really, really hard.


	8. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting takes place between two individuals with something special in common, and - in a sense - we come full circle.

Frisk looked at her watch for the third time in five minutes.  Sans was late...again.  She’d been meeting him for lunch on Thursdays for the past few weeks, and she was pretty sure he hadn’t actually shown up on time once.

Her phone buzzed twice in quick succession.  She dug it out of her pocket and read:

_Bonefriend 12:12 PM_   
Sorry i got cot on my way out th door   
B right there asap

She sent back an ‘Okay’ and sat on her bench to wait for him.

It was a beautiful day, and the park - as always - was busy.  There were several folks from the embassy, some from the nearby schools, and even a few from the shops and restaurants that had sprung up in the past few years.

A rather frazzled-looking young woman wearing an apron ran up.  “Sorry, weird question: can I sit here?  I’m trying to catch someone and...oh my gosh, you’re the Ambassador of Monsters, aren’t you?  Frisk, right?”

“Yes, I’m Frisk.  And it’s fine.”

The woman sat with a grateful smile, then pulled out her phone and started texting.  “Sorry,” she said after a moment, “It’s been one heck of a day.  I’ve got a few people worried about me.”

“No problem.  I’m just waiting for someone as well.  So what’s y-”

The phone rang, causing the woman to jump a little.  “Sorry,” she said again, before picking up.

Frisk tried not to listen in, but with the woman sitting not a few feet from her it was inevitable.

“I’m fine...Ethan, I’m  _ fine. _  There’s nothing... _ I just said _ there’s nothing to worry about.  I’m trying to hunt him down.  Yes.  I’ll let him know.  Just as soon as I see him.  I  _ know, _ Ethan...”

The woman looked strangely familiar, actually, now that Frisk thought about it.  She’d met a lot of people during her time as Ambassador, so that wasn’t surprising, but she couldn’t place where she’d met her.  The apron had the logo of a coffee shop nearby, but Frisk hadn’t been there yet.  It had some kind of punny name, though, if she remembered correctly.  Maybe Sans would be interested in going with her?

“Sorry,” the woman said when she got off the phone.  “Gosh, I just came over here and got on a phone call.”

“It’s alright.  Boyfriend?”

“Hah!  If only.  No; brother.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.   _ Big _ brother, too.  But!  Anyways!  I wanted to say that I really admire what you do.”

“Well.  Thank you.”

“Sorry; I’m sure you hear that a lot.”

“It’s fine.  I appreciate the sentiment.”

“It’s just...I mean, sure, I’ve seen you on TV, but I dated a monster for a little bit and he spoke very highly of you.  I mean,  _ very _ highly of you.  Every monster I’ve met does.  I’ve never even  _ heard _ of an approval rating that high, especially for a politician.”

Frisk smiled.  “I know.  I think I’m in a honeymoon phase still.  I did play a role in getting them to the surface, after all.  Just wait until I make some giant mistake; then you’ll get more balanced reviews.”

“Hah!  Well, we all have our flaws, but I think you might be surprised at how much support you have.  Humans  _ and _ monsters.  You’ve proved to us that we can live in peace together.”  The shadow of a wistful smile crossed her face.  “I never would’ve thought it possible, a few years ago, but...you’ve done more than I could ever hope to.”

“Thanks, but really...it was mostly being in the right place at the right time.  I just did what anyone would have done: I made the best of a bad situation and tried my best to fix it.”

“Well, you did a great job.  I don’t-”

A flash of blue, bright even in the filtered sunlight of the park, interrupted the woman.  Sans stood there with a lab coat over his arm and his work backpack slung over one shoulder, one hand rubbing at the top of his head.  He took a brief moment to orient himself, then smiled Frisk’s way.  “hey, i-”

He stopped short when he saw the woman sitting on the bench next to her.

“Sans!” the woman called.  “Hey!  I’ve been trying to track you down for, like, a week now.”

He was frozen in place, one hand still on his head, staring at the woman.  “Ethan wants to apologize for...well.  You know.  He’s been trying to find you in person.  I don’t...don’t want to make it awkward or anything, but you’re invited to come to dinner with us on Friday if you’re free.”

“i, uh, have plans.”

There was an embassy dinner on Friday that Sans had (reluctantly) agreed to attend.  She considered coming to his rescue, but she was genuinely interested in how this played out.

“Okay, but...please, I really, really don’t want to make this awkward.  Except...I have a feeling...I already have?  I’m sorry.  I really am.  But, please, can Ethan apologize to you in person sometime?  I’ll come with to make sure he behaves-”

“uh, sure, yeah.  no hard feelings.  that was...months ago.”

“Still…”

“i, uh, i’ve been busy-”

“You said.  You mentioned you’ve been seeing someone?”

Sans looked like he was about to choke.  Or implode.  Or both.  He glanced quickly at Frisk, still sitting on the bench.  “yup.”

“That’s great!  I’m happy for you!”

He made a funny little noise.

Frisk decided her boyfriend had had enough.  The woman jumped a little when she stood, having apparently forgotten about their audience, but Frisk forestalled any further apologies by offering a hand.  “I don’t think we’ve ever met in person.  You must be Terry.”

“Er, yes,” Terry said, taking her hand.

“It’s great to finally meet you!  I thought you looked familiar!”

“Oh?  I didn’t realize...oh, wait, those social media pictures.”

“Yep.  Funny how word gets around, right?”

“Haha, yeah.  Oh, sorry for not introducing myself when I kinda just plopped down next to you; I didn’t even put the pieces together…”

“No problem!  Oh, do you have a few minutes?  Sans and I were going to have lunch together, but if you need to talk to him you’re welcome to join us…?”

“No, no, I kinda have to be heading back to the coffee shop.  But it was nice meeting you!  And good seeing you, Sans!”

“yep,” was all he said.

“Well, ‘bye!”

And Terry was gone.

Sans still looked like he wanted to implode a little, so Frisk picked him up and settled him onto the bench to process.  The backpack she leaned against his side of the bench in the hopes that he wouldn’t forget it...like he had every week thus far.  He was lucky he could teleport.

“sorry,” he finally mumbled.

“It’s no problem.  She’s a very nice woman.”

“still.  that...must have been awkward.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize who she was until halfway through your conversation.  At that point it was a bit too late to be embarrassed, don’t you think?”

“you’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“Did you think I’d yell and stomp my feet or something?  I know you two dated.  You mentioned that you parted as friends.  I’m not going to stop you from talking to a friend, Sans.”

“yeah, but…” he waved his hands around in a vaguely frustrated and embarrassed manner.  “isn’t that one of the rules of dating?  never introduce your girlfriend to your ex-girlfriend?”

Frisk shrugged.  “Maybe.  I wouldn’t know.  You’re the first boyfriend I’ve ever had.  If you think you’ve committed some kind of big social faux pas I can penalize you some fries, but I’ve dealt with far more volatile situations than that.”

“but...no, okay, i see your point.”  He sighed and pulled a pair of paper sacks from his inventory.

The one he handed to her contained a grilled cheese sandwich, a small container of tomato soup, and the traditional order of fries.  Ah, yes: the old Souper Grillby’s Combo.  “Thanks.  I mean, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around Terry because of me, you know?”

“i...i get it.  and thanks.  i don’t really know how to deal with this either, but...wow, that was awkward.”

She gave him a hug.  “That’s alright.  I’ll take half your fries and we’ll never have to speak of this again.”

Sans grumbled but paid his penalty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that about wraps up this story! I know there are still some unanswered questions, and some scenes folks didn't get to see, but this is what I had for bonus material. Many thanks and a giant internet hug to everyone who read this!
> 
> If you jumped right to the end, I did post three one-shots today (the first one being "Signs").
> 
> Fun fact of the chapter: I think Frisk and Terry would genuinely get along. It's a bit too soon for that, though. Also, Sans is going to take some time to calm down. He knows he hurt Frisk and is trying very hard (maybe a little _too_ hard) not to hurt her again. Best to keep him out of things until he can stop being super awkward.
> 
> For anyone asking why Frisk didn't act like a jealous girlfriend: that doesn't happen in relationships where both parties know and trust each other. Sans did nothing to betray Frisk's trust (he wasn't cheating on her, for example) so Frisk knew she had no right to be mad. Will memories of this meeting come up in some future self-depreciating episode that makes her doubt her self-worth? Probably. But Sans will remind her not to compare herself to anyone else, especially in terms of their relationship.

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it! If you came here from "Stars in the Deep," I hope you enjoyed. I've read so many stories where Sans threatens someone who then falls into his arms in some kind of weird Stockholm Syndrome-type relationship, and it annoys me. This is how Sans and Terry know each other, and their relationship isn't quite like that.
> 
> It was important to me that Terry be a 'real' character, even though we don't see much of her in Stars. A Sans who would fall for a shallow, vapid individual is not a Sans who I wanted in my story, after all. He values intelligence. (And also tiny condiment packets. He does sometimes drink them straight, but he also keeps them on-hand to add to random food.)
> 
> If you didn't catch it, the first part of the story takes place between chapters 2 and 3 of Stars in the Deep. Terry and Papyrus have their conversation sometime during Chapter 3-ish. Obviously, when Sans returns to the coffee shop he acts a little nicer towards her.
> 
> And yes, the name of the coffee shop is a pun. "Brouhaha" means "a state of social agitation when a minor incident gets out of control, sometimes referred to as an uproar or hubbub." It's pronounced exactly like "brew"-haha.


End file.
